Mischief Managed: A Tale of Friendship
by padfootandprongss
Summary: From the first unfortunate meeting to the final prank, James Potter and Sirius Black have been causing magical mayhem at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Here we explore the unlikely bond between four young wizards as told by Padfoot and Prongs themselves. Weaving a tale of teenage love, angst, and most of all, friendship, here are their seven years at Hogwarts.
1. An Unfortunate Meeting

**Full Summary: ****From the first unfortunate meeting to the final prank, James Potter and Sirius Black have been causing magical mayhem at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Here we explore the unlikely bond between four young wizards as told by Padfoot and Prongs themselves. Weaving a tale of teenage love, angst, and most of all, friendship, Padfoot and Prongs tell the infamous tale of their seven years at Hogwarts.**

**Hello, fellow lovers of everything Marauders. This is a story written by myself (Jennie) and my friend Abby. While getting to know each other, Abby and I have realized that our behaviors match up nicely with those of Sirius and James' of Harry Potter. Her being Sirius and I being James. And since we already had a handle on the personalities and enjoyed writing, we decided to make a Fanfiction! This story highlights some moments from their first year at Hogwarts to their last and alternates the narrator every chapter. Everything that is in Sirius' POV, you can assume was written by Abby and everything in James' POV was written by me. With the exception of this chapter that was mainly written by me with little bits of Abby thrown in there. So it was a collaboration. I hope you enjoy and don't forget to review if you liked it . . . or not. It really doesn't make a difference.**

**DISCLAIMER: We're Abby and Jennie, NOT J.K. Rowling . . . despite how awesome that would be.**

Mischief Managed: A Tale of Friendship

Chapter One

An Unfortunate Meeting: Year One

Sirius' Point of View

It was, at the moment, quite inopportune that I ran into Lily Evans on that first train ride to Hogwarts. Of course, it would later turn out that it was very fortunate for me to have met Evans, but not at this particular point in time. I was scared senseless as it was for various reasons of my own and this stubborn ginger and her greasy sidekick were just not on the schedule for me.

Apparently, James Potter felt the same way because he casted them aside as if they were nothing but pesky flies merely buzzing by his ear. Determination was on his face. He wanted to make these years at Hogwarts the best of his life. What I quickly picked up on from this scrawny, ruffle haired boy was that when he was determined to do something, he literally put every bit of his power into succeeding it. That's how James broke both of his legs, made the first map of Hogwarts meant for mischievous intentions, got said Lily Evans to fall for him, and defied the Dark Lord three times.

With my help, of course.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. We'll get there in due time, my dear friends. To start it all off, I want to tell you more of this unfortunate meeting.  
Like I said, it was on my first train ride to Hogwarts. Standing on Platform 9 and 3/4, my mom handed me my trunk, gave me an awkward pat on the shoulder, and sent me off. I turned towards my dad, unsure of what to expect. My father wasn't the most touchy-feely person on the planet. Who am I kidding? He wouldn't hug Merlin himself if given the opportunity.

So, in short, it wasn't really a surprise to me when he simply said, "You better hope you're in Slytherin boy," and then went to leave.

No, I take that back. It was a surprise. I honestly didn't think he'd say anything. You can image the pressure I was feeling. For centuries, my family has always been in Slytherin House. I was terribly scared of the possibility of being disowned by my parents if I didn't carry on the tradition. I had no where else to go if it came down to that. I was the least favorite cousin, nephew, grandson, and son. And frankly, I didn't like any of my family members anymore then they seemed to like me. It was a mutual distaste. But still, and this is the truly sad part, it would appear that they're all I have.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I boarded the train.

There were kids everywhere, all bustling about with a sense of urgency and excitement. Everyone seemed to know where they were supposed to go and who they were supposed to be with. Everyone had a place where they belonged, close friends were claimed, and groups were already formed. I just had to figure out where I fit in. Again with the pressure.

My anxiety was building. A delicate bubble that was stretching dangerously close to the popping point.  
The first compartment I checked had three boys seated in it already, all appearing to be first years as well. I suppose this would be a good start to "making friends."  
I sat awkwardly next to a tall, blond kid.

"Hello," he greeted me.

"Hi," I responded. So far so good, Sirius.

We carried on casual conversation, talking about how it was out first year and how nervous we were. The other boys would occasionally catch bits and pieces and interject a sentence or two. I decided that this group wouldn't be too bad.

The train had yet to leave the station and some kids were still saying goodbye to their families. It was some time then that a very small, red haired, freckly boy peaked his head in through the doorway.

He hesitantly asked, "M-may I join you?"

Before I could even consider a response, my new blond haired acquaintance sneered, "Ginger hair, tattered clothes, and an idiotic completion. No, Weasley, you can't sit here."

The boy looked defeated, but left none-the-less. The compartment erupted in laughter.

"Can you believe him? He's lucky that he's not a mudblood or else I would have to pound his face in for simply speaking to me," my no-longer  
acquaintance snickered.

My blood started boiling. To be honest, I've never met someone that wasn't a pureblood, but seeing this boy who just wanted to belong - a feeling I know all to well - being treated so unfairly, made my fingers twitch into a fist. I stood up abruptly.

"Something wrong?" Blond haired kid asked me.

"Yes. Something's very wrong with you."

I left and didn't even look back, something I really regret. The look on his face was priceless, I'm sure.

The immense restraint I displayed at that moment astounds even myself. As I look back, I realize that if I had come across that situation now, I would assuredly hex his sorry ass.

I walked until I saw the next available compartment. There were no completely empty ones, but I eventually came across one that held a single first year boy in it. This kid had pitch-black hair that was so messy it made me wonder if it was ever tidy. He had glasses and outstandingly large hazel eyes. He was obviously occupied in deep thought as he stared out the window because I had been sitting across from him for a good five minutes before he noticed I was even there.

"Oh," he exclaimed. "Hi."

This situation started to seem very familiar.

"Hi," I mumbled, staring out the window. Then, it was quiet. Neither of us spoke. You could almost feel the awkwardness in the air. James now always speaks of this exchange as the quietest we've ever been. Our rambunctious reputation has led people to believe that this moment never happened. They believe that we simply became best friends, bonded to the point of brotherhood, the second we laid eyes on eachother. To those people, this moment never happened. But I - being actually there - can honestly tell you that it did. Though I admit, the friendship followed soon after.

"Aaaaanything from the trolley? Anything from the trolley, dears?"

Just then, an elderly woman came past pushing a cart full of candy. She stopped right in front of our compartment and offered the goodies to us. James got up and bought two chocolate frogs, which I naturally assumed meant that he was going to give one of them to me. I watched and waited as he devoured the first, and reached out my hand for the second.

"Oh... uh, did you want it?" James stammered.

"Oh ha, no, I was just... messing...," I say as I look the other way and re-adjust my position. I suddenly became very twitchy and uncomfortable. And so the awkward silence consumed our little compartment once again, only broken by the sound of James savoring the second frog.

"Salazar Slytherin," James muttered.

"What?"

"Oh, its the wizard on-" James never finished the sentence, for at that same moment, a young red headed girl our age came into the compartment and plopped down in the seat next to the window. This was, as you can imagine, quite strange seeing as we had never met before, and what was more strange (and uncomfortable), is that she started quietly crying. James and I didn't know what to say to this _girl _in our compartment, let alone what to say to this _crying_ girl. She rolled over in her seat and pressed her cheek against the window, obviously not keen on making conversation at the moment. James shrugged and carried on small, insignificant conversations with me. We continued this for a while, becoming more friendly with each other and occasionally even laughing a little. By then we had all but forgotten the girl, until another mysterious guest arrived at our compartment. This time, a boy.

Mystery Man seemed to know immediately who the crying girl was because he stalked right past us to sit next to her. James and I had just started an in-depth conversation about quidditch, so I didn't pay much attention to the visitor. I did, however, catch a glimpse of long, black, incredibly greasy hair, but I shook the crying girl and Mystery Man aside. James must have felt the same way because he barely glanced in their direction.

We carried on this way for a while, both ends of the compartment acting as if the other end wasn't there. It was ignorance bliss and I loved it. Why couldn't the whole world be like this?

My happiness was soon destroyed when a word was said by the other side that could not simply be ignored by myself nor, as it turns out, James.

". . . you're in Slytherin."

Slytherin; the heart of my anxiety.

James' head instantly turned toward the source of the comment; Mystery Man. Needless to say, they didn't get along very well. But through their pointless bickering, I learned that James was hoping to be in Gryffindor, an admirable House choice. He even encouraged me to break the chain of Slytherins amongst my family. And for the first time, I felt like I could, and I felt like I _wanted_ to. I was beginning to realize that James could be a great friend.

This is the moment in a film where the camera would zoom uncomfortably close to my face and fireworks would be exploding all around me. This is the moment when James and I became friends. A story worthy of the history books. Though, later, my going to Azkaban and being remarked as a cold hearted murderer sort of ruined that reputation. Nobody wanted to talk well of me after that. And nobody - _nobody_ - wanted to speak of James and I in the same sentence. Because James earned his spot as a hero in many people's minds. He was only spoken of with admiration and awe. The notorious Sirius Black didn't belong in the same sentence as the great and sacrificial James Potter. So they disregarded our friendship.

But more on that later . . . _much_ later. For now, this is about Hogwarts and our unfortunate meeting with a certain Lily Evans, who actually just walked out of our compartment with her greasy sidekick.

"Can you believe him?" James asked incredulously. "Says he wants to be in Slytherin. Don't worry, mate, you're nothing like him. You're definitely a Gryffindor if I've ever seen one."

I smiled. I smiled because I've now only met one (sort of) Gryffindor in my life (James), and I liked him a lot better than my entire family combined.

And he ended up being an amazing guesser as well. After the train had finally arrived at Hogwarts and the first years had all been sorted into their Houses, I went to take my seat at the Gryffindor table for the first time. Ironically (not really, I did it on purpose), I happened to sit next to the crying red headed girl that we had met on the train. After James and Snivelly argued, she had glared at us before stalking off with the Slytherin following her closely behind like a sad puppy. Upon my plopping down next to her sporting a cheeky smile, she promptly wrinkled her nose in disgust and turned a whole one hundred and eighty degrees away from me.

"Told ya you'd be in Gryffindor," James flaunted as he sat down next to me after also being sorted into the House of the brave. I opened my mouth to respond but was distracted by giggling first year girls staring at James and I. They swiftly looked away blushing when I caught them in the act.

"James," I whispered, "those girls are staring at us."

The black haired boy merely grabbed a piece of toast from the center of the table and started buttering it, not bothering to even glance in my direction as he answered, "And why wouldn't they? I'm extremely handsome."

I burst out into a fit of laughs. But Lily didn't seem to think it was so funny. The eavesdropper spun around to face us and bits of her hair flew into my face, causing me to see red for an entire minute. So I more heard rather than saw her scoff. "Oh, please. The only reason they'd be staring at you is because they're probably shocked that such small glasses could fit onto someone with such a _big head_."

After her mini tantrum ended, Lily turned around to once again give me a view of her back. I gave James a what-the-heck-is-her-problem look, but he didn't seem to notice. He was too busy gazing at the back of Lily's head as if he was star struck. The determined look crossed his face again. And so the chase began.


	2. A Pretty Good Start

**A/N: Chapter Two! And the ball is rolling... This chapter is in James' point of view, so, naturally, it was written by Jennie. It highlights the Gryffindor try-outs that took place Sirius and James' first year. I hope you guys find it humorous and notice some sexual tension between two certain characters ;) READ AND REVIEW! Tell us what you think and what moments you would maybe like to see in later chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. If I was, I would certainly have written a Marauders Era book by now... -_-**

Year 1:

A Pretty Good Start

James' POV

Shining with brilliance, the sun promised a great day. There was an extra spring in everyone's step among the Gryffindor House on this particular evening. Hope, excitement, and nerves were raciing through the student's minds. It was the day of quidditch try-outs and, yes, I was participating. Don't worry; I had been warned that it was near impossible to make the team as a first year . . . in fact, I do believe that it is only open to second years and beyond. But my father had written a very persuasive letter to Professor Dumbledore, head of Gryffindor, and he agreed to allow me a try-out because of my prior knowledge and experience with the wizarding sport. I must admit, I am quite exceptional. Well, that applies with almost everything, really, but quidditch especially.

"Still not understanding why you think it's a good idea for me to try-out," Sirius grumbled at dinner. I had my dad write him a letter also. I couldn't go alone, after all. Plus, Sirius and I had really bonded since the start of the school year. I would go as far as to say he was my bestest mate at this point. So it would feel wrong if, after all of the time we spend together, he missed out on this opportunity. And I knew he wasn't rubbish at quidditch. Told me so himself.  
"Are you saying you don't want to be on the team?" I raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Shut it. Of course, I _want_ to, you wanker. But I'm a first year. So are you."

"Mm-hmm," I mumbled, not really paying attention to what he just said. Just then, the red headed girl from the train (later revealed to me as Lily Evans) walked in with a small group of Gryffindor girls. She took a seat at the far end of the table and pulled out a Potions book. For some reason, I found her very interesting. Not to say I fancied her! I just . . . . was curious, is all.

"She hates you, James," Sirius commented, following my gaze.

"She doesn't even know me," I grumbled, annoyed that I was caught staring. I quickly moved my attention back to my food only to discover that one of my two cheese rolls was missing, which was _not_ okay. Those rolls happened to be my favorite thing about Hogwarts' meals.

"Okay, where's my cheese roll?" I announced. The other two first year boys from our house often sat with Sirius and I. I could barely tell them apart (they both had blonde hair, you see) and truthfully couldn't even remember their names. But, there they were. The two boys shook their heads frantically.

"I didn't take it!" The slightly rounder one replied, the taller, skinnier boy nodding in agreement.

"Right," I said heatedly, "then where did it go?"

The Gryffindors both looked at each other and then their eyeballs glanced in Sirius' direction. When I turned to my best friend with a look of betrayal on my face, I found that he was glaring daggers at the (for all intents and purposes) twins.

"Sirius!" I scolded.

He smirked unashamed. "You took the last one!"

"So you _steal_? You know, in the muggle world, you go to mail for that . . . or something. Give it here or I'll be forced to kill you."

"You really want me to puke on your plate?"

I couldn't believe my ears. My mind reeled at what he was trying to tell me.

"You _ate_ it?!" I gasped. "You actually_ ate_ my cheese roll?" Sirius simply shrugged in response.

"You better sleep with your eyes open," I warned.

"Already do."

"Really? So that explains why you look like my Aunt Bathilda." The twins burst out laughing, but tried to suck it in when Sirius sneered at them.

"You know what -" Sirius began to argue, but I interrupted.

"I probably do know. My knowledge is never-ending. Impressive, really. So, since we got that covered, we should head down to the pitch right now. Don't want to be late, do we?"

"I think we still have plenty of time."

"Sirius, come. You ate my cheese roll," I said dryly. Since he couldn't argue with that fact, my best friend simply sighed and got up to follow me out of the Great Hall, out the front door of the castle, and down the long trek to the quidditch field.

"I do not have time for wimps. You may think that quidditch sounds really spectacular right now, but I promise, you won't be thinking that after the long hours of practice I have scheduled for this team. Don't say I didn't warn you ahead of time. In fact, now that you have such a head start on mentally preparing yourself for the physical exhaustion you will have to endure, I suspect I won't have to deal with your whining at all. I do not have time for wimps, and I simply won't tolerate it on my team. Is that understood?"

There were nods of agreement from the assortment of Gryffindors that huddled together looking for their chance to be a part of the victorious team. Quidditch Cup champions for the past five years at Hogwarts, thank you very much.

"I'm Gweneth," the brown haired, freckled fifth year continued, "this year's captain. As most of you have probably heard, we have a reputation of excellence in the Gryffindor House as far as quidditch goes, and I'm not about to see the record broken under my command. I'll do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen, even if that means running you weaklings into the ground."

"What a hard arse," mumbled Sirius. I elbowed him in the ribs because I was pretty sure the captain heard him.

"You," Gweneth pointed at the idiot next to me who was incapable of whispering. Yup, she heard him.

"Me?" Sirius pointed at himself incredulously.

"No, I'm sorry, not you. My finger must have pointed at the wrong prat who thinks it's okay to belittle me under his breath."

Again, Sirius turned to me and muttered in my ear, "When's the last time she had a boyfriend, do you think?" When Gweneth turned her glaring eyes on to me, I put both of my palms out to show I was innocent. No way was I going to let my big mouth ruin my chances of getting me on the team . . . no matter how funny my friend's last comment was.

The Gryffindor Captain's ears were turning red, she grinded her teeth together as she spat, "That's it. Twenty laps around the field because a little first year decided to be a wise arse." Nobody complained as they grabbed their brooms, but some did manage to shoot Sirius a nasty glare.

"Nu-uh-uh, _running_," Gweneth corrected. There was a collective groan among the group before everyone seemed to realize at the same time that we weren't supposed to whine and quickly feigned coughing.

Needless to say, it was a rough evening. The Crazy Lady had us out on the field literally all night. My hands started to get splinters from how tightly and how long I was gripping my broom. And since Gweneth was scratching the entire team from last year and starting fresh, every position was open. This meant that she had us switching from position to position to see how we played in different spots. Being so small, I mainly went from Seeker to Chaser. At random times, if Captain was unhappy with someone's performance and decided they were inadequate, she would simply tell them to put their broom back in the shed and return to the castle. It was well into the night when she told that to Sirius. It's not that he wasn't playing swimmingly - the kid made a great Keeper, despite his tiny body - but his continuous douchey comments finally got under Gweneth's skin.

The conversation went a little something like:

"Sirius, don't get cocky in your abilities. _Eyes on the ball_. The last thing I need is a egotistical Keeper, they get lazy."

"Excuse me? I don't see you up here hitting giant quaffles every which way -"

"Would you just listen to what I'm telling you instead of arguing -"

"Oh, Merlin. I knew it. You never had a boyfriend. I mean, how could you, running your mouth all the ti -"

"Off the field."

"I repeat: _Excuse me?_"

"You heard me, Black. I can't take you running your mouth all the time. Take your broom and get off my field."

He landed his broom, spat on the ground, and stormed off. I still make fun of him for it till this day. It's quite funny now. He was always a hot head. I swear, Gweneth was lighter on her feet the moment his left the pitch. But I, surprisingly, managed to keep my mouth shut all night, though it was certainly hard at times. On one occasion, Sirius was mimicking an explosion sound every time Gweneth took a step and called her Trolleth. I was gagging from the effects of trying not to laugh. All in all, I suppose I played well because when Captain finally called it quits, and everyone was leaving for the night, Trolleth (my new favorite nickname for her) came up to me and said, "James, I'm impressed. You were very fast out there. Caught that snitch pretty fast."

"Yeah?" I pretended to be surprised by my skills. "You really think I'm good?"

She shrugged, "Sure, you could use some work here and there" - not okay - "but I would like for you to be my Seeker. You think you're ready for it?"  
"Born."

I tried not to skip up to the Boys Dormitory, but I believe a few gallops found their way in. And I tried not to seem overly excited as I told Sirius and the twins (who were sort of becoming my friends), but I think a few squeaks escaped my lips. But I definitely couldn't help but to leap onto my four-poster bed with a happy sigh. _Gryffindor Seeker_, I thought, _first year_. My Hogwarts days were off to a pretty good start, if I could say so myself.


	3. Definitely Foolproof

**We bring you Chapter Three! You'll find out how James and Sirius' first prank went . . . and the detentions that follow. This chapter is in Sirius' POV and was therefor written by Abby. Hope you enjoy and don't forget to tell us what you think.**

**Disclaimer: Nope. We haven't suddenly morphed into J.K. Rowling and our bank accounts still remain the same. **

Year 1:

Definitely Foolproof...

Sirius' POV

Despite popular opinion, James and I weren't expert pranksters at first. Quite far from that, actually. Our first prank, as I recall, was disastrous.

It was definitely a boring day for two eleven year old boys. The weather was rainy, it was a Sunday, and we were _bored. _We sat alone in the Gryffindor common room, thumbing through our Chocolate Frog Cards and staring at our Potions essays. The castle was quiet and dreary on this inclement October Sunday, which just so happened to be the perfect atmosphere to plan a prank.

"-and first years _never_ make it. It's almost unheard of." I learned to zone out when James would begin to talk about Quidditch. Of course I was excited for him, who wouldn't be? But his obsession was, to be completely honest, just that; an obsession. It got old very quickly, and it being so shortly after the news of making the team, his excitement was at its peak.

"I know, James, you tell me that every day," I snapped at him. He barely noticed, just kept rambling about the history of the quaffle. "We should do something," I whine, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"Please, elaborate on your ideas of what to do. As I was saying, Finnidellus Snipp was the last wizard to modify the quaffle to the one that we play with now."

"We should not do this, how about that?" I roll my eyes.

"I thought you were excited for Quidditch season."

"I am, I'm just not obsessed."

"Mate, you haven't even seen me close to obsessed."

"Really? I'm pretty sure your main topics of discussion are Quidditch, Quidditch, Quidditch, and the girl from the train. Lily Evans, I think her name was."

"They are not," he said, undignified.

"_Pretty sure _they are."

"Whatever. Back to what we are going to do."

"Right, well, I was thinking something like-"

"We should pull a prank!"

"Sorry?" I didn't know what he had in mind, but getting detention wasn't on my to-do list.

"Yeah, get back at Snape." He looked devious, his pranking gears turning.

"What has he done to us, exactly?"

"He... he's just a twat. Do we really need much of a reason?" I shrugged. I hated Snape just as much as the next guy, but I was still reluctant.

"How do you propose that we carry out said 'prank'?" I began to become more and more interested by the second. This prank thing was growing on me already.

"Hmm... something to embarrass him. Let him know who's boss."

"We should do it at breakfast. Then he'll have to live with it for the rest of the day." My eyes lit up, and my mind was going a mile a minute. It seemed as if I had found my knack.

"Great, but what exactly are we going to do?"

"Put something in his drink," I replied quickly, I had an idea. "Like a potion, to... sprout warts all over his face!" We laughed. This was going to be good.

"We can get it out of Slughorn's supply after he's gone off to bed tonight. Then tomorrow at breakfast we slip it in his pumpkin juice!" Our faces were alight with joy at our ingenious prank. We were sure to humiliate Slimeball Snape with this. It was foolproof.

The next morning, James and I were on top of the world. After successfully swiping the potion from Slughorn and fine tuning our mischievous plot, we felt as if nothing could stop the magnificent Potter and Black. We practically ran to the Great Hall, giddy with anticipation. Upon entering, we found the familiar sight of the red-headed girl saying "see you later" to her greasy friend. I think it nearly killed James to keep his excitement in. He kept glancing from Snape to me, then smiling like an idiot.

"Okay, James, you have to stop that if we're going to pull this off."

"What? Oh, sorry." He began tapping the table as he suppressed his grin. The meal went on as usual; us making trivial conversation while the two blonde boys, Lupin and. . . Robert (I think? Maybe something like Pete?) listened. My heart started to thump harder as breakfast began to wind down.

"Sirius, we have to go now," James said in a very obviously suspicious tone.

"Where are you going?" the chubbier boy asked.

"Nowhere, just, uh. . . going to say hello to our favorite Slytherin." James winked at me.

"Right, we'll be seeing you two later." James and I bounced across the Great Hall, dimming our excitement only when we neared the Slytherin table.

"Hey, Snape!" James called out, sounding genuinely happy to see the little git.

"What are you two doing?" Snivelly sneered, looking at us with critical eyes.

"Nothing, really, just stopping by to say hello. How've you been lately?" James says, making conversation with the snake as if they were best friends. For a second, I was almost jealous. Snape just stared at him. "Alright, not very talkative today, are we?"

"Listen, Sniv- eh . . . _Severus_, we're sorry if we got off on the wrong foot, and we wanted to. . . apologize," I glanced at James, who gave me a small nod, "for if we came off as jerks." I stuck my hand out for him to shake. He cautiously took it, keeping a close eye on the both of us. Then, just on cue, a tall Slytherin girl walked past the group. James stumbled and fell, knocking Snape and I to the ground.

"She pushed me!" James yelled, pointing at the girl. She simply shrugged and walked away.

"I'm so sorry about that, Snape," James said as he scrambled off of us. As he got up, he smoothly took out the flask of _Instanti Verrucas_, the wart potion. While I helped Snivelly up, James poured some into his goblet of pumpkin juice. Luckily, Snape didn't have friends, so no one paid any notice to our actions. Once Snape was seated again, we said farewell and began to walk back to the Gryffindor table. Halfway down the Slytherin table, we heard an exclamation.

"Potter, Black!" We whirled around, hearts thumping. Snivelly was not, as we were anticipating, covered in blemishes and boils, but was standing in the aisle, holding his goblet out from his body. Unfortunately, at that point, McGonagall (a relatively young professor) detected the disturbance. With a sweep of her robes, she briskly walked from the head table to Snape. "Those two put _Instanti Verrucas_ in my drink!" he said, pointing to us, now frozen in our tracks. _How the bloody hell did he know what potion we put in? He must be some kind of potions wizard!_

"Mister Potter, Mister Black, is this true?" McGonagall said, staring us down with her piercing eyes.

"We, eh, were just-"

"Save it, Potter. Come with me." All of our excitement turned to dread as we followed McGonagall, Snivelly's black eyes following us out of the Great Hall. She led us up three flights of steps and into her office. The space reflected her personality perfectly. Adorned with nothing but the necessary items, the cold space gave off a feeling of punishment and hard rule. She sat us in two hard wood chairs across from her desk. She, however, stayed standing.

"What," she paused, looking at each of us in turn, "were you two thinking? Trying to poison another student's drink. I could probably expel you two for this. It's only _three_ months into the school year, could you not think of a better pastime? Do _not _answer that. And you, Mister Potter, just made the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, per special request. I could very easily take that privilege away from you." At this, James stiffened. "Seeing as you two are first years, however, I will be kind." We let out a sigh of relief. "One week of detention, I think, will suffice."

"Professor!" we cried in unison.

"Or should I take away quidditch after all?"

"Detention is fine! Thank you Professor!" James yelled back. I stifled a laugh.

"Alright. You two are free to go. Come back here tomorrow night at seven!"

Although we were dreading facing McGonagall yet _again_ for detention, she was definitely beginning to grow on us. After spending a week with her, albeit for disciplinary purposes, we had become slightly fond of her, and we were pretty sure we weren't on the bottom of her list of students. As we opened the door to her classroom, we faced the familiar sight of a blackboard with the same line of text written in cursive covering it. That night, "Brewing potions outside of class can get me expelled," was the chosen message. Previously, things like "Bullying will get me nowhere in life," or "Severus Snape has never hurt me in any way," have been the daily lesson.

"Good evening, boys," McGonagall greeted us as we grudgingly took out our quills and parchment.

"Good evening, Professor," we said in turn.

"You know the drill," she said, returning to the stack of essays that she had been grading.

The first bit of the hour passed uneventfully, but when James' hand began to cramp and he became restless, he stood up and began stretching.

"Mister Potter, what are you doing?" McGonagall asked.

"Nothing, just stretching," he replied, bending over to touch his toes.

"Sit back down, Potter."

"Just a second."

"Now."

"But my hand is cramping!"

"This is your punishment for putting _Instanti Verrucas_ in another student's pumpkin juice, James." At this, James grumbled and sat in his seat again, but picked up his quill and began drawing on his paper.

"What is that?" I asked him, being careful to whisper.

"Lighten up, Sirius, it's the last night. What could McGonagall do?"

"I don't know, more detention?" He scoffed at my warning and began writing lines again ruefully, shaking his hand out and sighing more frequently than actually necessary. When the hour was up, I had written four and a half pages of the line, my handwriting getting sloppier and sloppier as time went on.

"Professor, time's up," I said. I had been checking the clock plenty for the last ten minutes or so.

"I suppose it is," McGonagall sighed and walked over to us, examining our lines. She paused as she came to James' doodle, which was a crudely drawn golden snitch, and glared at him over her glasses. He shrugged and she continued her examination. When she found our work sufficient, she gave us our papers. "Keep these; they might motivate you two to behave."

"Thank you, Professor," we said in unison. As I pulled the door open to leave, I glanced back and noticed her watching us with a small, tight smile.

"I'll see you in class, Mister Black," she said.

"See you." I ran out the door after James and we returned to the common room to throw our papers in the dying fire.


End file.
